


Hold Me

by Corker



Series: Love Me [5]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age II
Genre: Dom/sub, F/F, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-14
Updated: 2014-02-14
Packaged: 2018-01-12 09:36:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,165
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1184681
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Corker/pseuds/Corker
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One night, Aveline is just too tired and stressed to play, so Isabela offers some dommy comfort.  Aveline has an attack of feelings and flees.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hold Me

Aveline arrived at the Blooming Rose’s more discreet side door without really remembering the trip from Viscount’s Keep. Not, for once, because she was already getting wrapped up in anticipation and consternation and vague promises to herself of a ‘last time,’ but because she was bone-deep tired. The qunari grew more restive by the week, and the Arishok’s black eyes increasingly shuttered close when she saw him. The less he revealed, the more she was afraid of what he was hiding.

But she had an appointment, and Aveline Vallen kept her appointments. She pushed her way inside automatically, went up the stairs and into their room, and -

Her collar spanged against her breastplate and hit the floor. Isabela grinned lazily from where she half-sat, half-sprawled in a large carved chair. Aveline hadn’t even seen her twitch to throw the thing. “One of these days, you’ll be late,” the pirate drawled. “And then we’ll have some real fun.”

“Mm.” Aveline looked down at the collar, up at Isabela, and down again. She started to reach down for it - and stopped. Shaking her head, she sighed. “I don’t think it’s going to work tonight,” she said. “I’m not really in the mood. The city’s tense, _I’m_ tense, and no, that’s not how I want to relieve my tension, thanks.”

“Tch. Poor Big Girl,” Isabela said, with a surprising amount of sympathy. She pressed a finger to her lips for a moment, then lifted it. “I have an idea. Something different.”

Aveline frowned. “Isabela,” she said, a note of warning in her voice. This had never been a point of negotiation before; Isabela had insisted, even, that Aveline always be the one to put the collar on, as a token of consent. She didn’t want to be badgered about it.

“No, really. I do get it, you know.” The pirate slithered out of the chair and made her way across the room, swaying. “I used to be a captain, too, remember? Every day, all the decisions and the burdens and on top of it all? Always be twice as strong and six times as mean as any of the men.” Aveline thought she caught just a touch of emphasis on the last word and felt her head nodding. “Never a single person you can let see you weak,” Isabela said, stooping to pick up the collar.

“You still don’t,” Aveline realized suddenly. “You never -”

“We’re talking about you,” Isabela said firmly, a small smile not really off-setting the sudden steel in her voice. “And you can put this on,” she said, offering the collar again, “and stop being Guard Captain for a couple of hours, and I’ll just let you rest. Because I’m a good queen.”

“Just rest?” 

“Lay it all down and rest,” Isabela confirmed. 

Aveline sighed and rolled her shoulders. “Well, I suppose the room’s paid for anyway,” she grumbled, accepting the collar.

She didn’t put it on straightaway. Not while she was still in her armor. She removed it quickly and efficiently, years of practice speeding her through the process without conscious thought. Getting down to her tunic and trousers, she paused, glancing at Isabela for guidance.

“Just go on and get naked,” Isabela waved. 

“But we’re not -”

“No, we’re not. But I still like to see you naked.”

 _Put it all down._ Aveline let herself just follow the order and stripped off, then finally fastened on her collar.

“There’s my good girl,” Isabela purred. “Come here.” She dropped a finger to indicate a spot on the floor just ahead of, and a bit to one side of, her chair. Aveline obeyed, dropping to her knees as was their habit for this game. “No… a little more to the side… sideways… here.” With gentle firmness, Isabela pulled her head so that the side of her face was resting on the pirate’s knee, and she was able to relax her buttocks down to her heels. “Settle in,” the pirate instructed, and Aveline interpreted that to mean to shuffle her body around so that her neck wasn’t quite so twisted. 

“There now.” Isabela’s deft fingers undid the tie that held her hair loosely back, eased her leather band from her forehead. That wasn’t unusual - Isabela often liked to dress Aveline’s hair to her own liking - but then she just began to pet and stroke, carding her fingers through her fine red hair. “Poor Aveline,” Isabela murmured, and without the mockery the guard would have expected. “All that thankless, boring work without so much as a ‘thank you.’ It’s not easy, being Kirkwall’s official killjoy, is it? No, no it isn’t...”

And on and on. Expecting Isabela to think of the guard force with respect was probably asking too much, but… Aveline sighed, relaxing against the warm bronze skin. She heard words of praise, that she worked hard, that she was a good girl, that someone appreciated… even _approved_ of her work. Of her.

She hadn’t heard that in a long time.

She didn’t expect the tears that welled up along with the sudden sense of warmth and comfort. It was almost frightening, how much she wanted to hear all this. She didn’t _need_ to - she was stronger than that, she knew - but Maker, she _wanted_ to. Someone who _understood_ , who cared, who --

The bubble of almost painful happiness abruptly burst. Without even thinking, Aveline rolled back onto her feet, clawed for the clasp of the collar. “I can’t. I can’t do this.”

“What?” Isabela sounded halfway between confused and… no, she couldn’t be hurt. “Can’t do _this?_ This isn’t anything.”

“Right.” Aveline reached for her clothes. “It isn’t anything.” She dressed with savage speed. “You were… you were very clear about that. Honest. More than I was. With myself, with you.”

Isabela inhaled sharply. “Ooo. This sounds messy.”

The wide leather belt that supported her leg armor buckled on. “I know better than to be… messy. I…” She paused from strapping on pieces of metal to look up at Isabela. The pirate had curled up on the chair, legs drawn in in a way Aveline read as ‘defensively.’ “I don’t even understand why I come. I… I’m thankful you let me? I think.” There were things she knew now, knew about herself beyond any doubt or pretending, and some nights she wished she could unknow them. “But I can’t do this anymore. Not if it…” She looked away, hefted her shield. “Not if it isn’t anything.”

She didn’t see Isabela drop her own eyes and swallow before saying, clearly and carefully, “It’s just for fun with me, big girl. You know that.”

“Right. I know that.” 

She’d handled - or fooled herself that she was handling - the faux intimacy that came with sheer physical release. But that soft, embracing, tender warmth…

It felt like love.

And that wasn’t nothing.

“Good night, Isabela,” Aveline said quietly, and edged out the door.

She was most of the way back to the barracks when she realized she’d left her headband behind.


End file.
